Page 31 of The Road Trip Romance

I somehow manage to pull myself together. “Seriously, whose baby is that?”

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Sophia

“Give me the baby,” I protest as I watch Tate bounce him on his knee. I can barely contain it. My ovaries have burst like twelve times in the last two hours as Trevor’s best friend’s baby is passed from person to person.

Tate glares at me and then coos at Lucas. “You don’t want to go to Sophia, do you? You like me the best.”

I roll my eyes. “Lucas, I know you have better taste. Come to Auntie Sophia,” I state as I hold my hands out. Lucas stretches out his chubby little arms and I smirk as I take him from Tate. I blow raspberries on Lucas’s exposed belly, and he giggles one of those perfect baby giggles that is so infectious that the most baby-fever-immune human can’t deny loving the sound of it.

I look past Lucas to find Tate staring at me. I clear my throat and turn to Trevor who has just finished telling Jordan about a band that recently recorded at his studio. Apparently, when he’s not working on his master’s degree, Trevor produces music and his best friend from childhood, Victor, is working with him and got called in last minute to the studio, so Trevor is babysitting.

“Victor is going to be so bummed he missed you all. Oh, wait, let’s snap a photo for him,” Trevor says as he whips his phone out. We all lean in, and he takes a selfie of us at his kitchen table.

“We should head back to the hotel,” Jordan says. “We got an early morning tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Us old guys need our beauty sleep,” Rex adds with a goofy smile at Lucas who giggles and reaches out to grab at Rex. I hand Lucas over to him and stand.

“Thanks for dinner, Trevor. It was delicious,” I say as everyone begins standing. Trevor walks over and hugs me. I feel like I’ve known this young man forever. He’s a great guy and it’s clear that Rex is very proud of him.

“Text me when you guys get to Montana,” Trevor demands as he takes Lucas from his father, and they share an awkward hug around the baby.

“We will. And don’t forget to check out that white water rafting trip,” Penn adds as we all walk to the front door. Apparently, Trevor shares Penn’s love of adventure.

A car is waiting to take us back to the hotel. It’s not super late when I get inside my hotel room. I shower and sit on the bed. I call Mark’s house and talk to the kids for a few minutes before answering texts from Lex and Anissa who have been blowing up my phone wanting updates. I haven’t answered them since my initial text messages telling them about my road trip.

Finally, I lie back against the pillow when there’s a knock at the adjoining door. Groaning, I walk over and unlock my side. I open it and immediately regret doing that.

Tate is standing in the doorway with no shirt on and a loose pair of gray sweatpants clinging to his lower half in a way that should be illegal.Have I seen his torso before? Yes. Could I stare at it all night long? Abso-fucking-lutely.

I realize my mouth is hanging open. I close it and cross my arms because there is a fifty percent chance he can see through my top and my torso is not anywhere in the same shape as his. I fight a blush that creeps up my face as I take a deep breath.

“Yes?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

He holds up an empty tissue box. “Any chance you have tissues in your room? Mine is out.”

“Seriously? Just call room service. I’m sure some front-desk person would die a thousand deaths to deliver tissue tothe Tate Anders,” I mutter as I roll my eyes.

Tate frowns and I stop mid-eye roll. “What?” I ask.

“I don’t want to bother housekeeping over this. I’m sure they have more important things to attend to, and since we’re here for just one night, I figured I could just take a few from your room,” he explains.

And now, I feel like an asshole. I fully blush this time as I turn and scurry to the dresser, grabbing the box of tissues sitting there. I shove it at him.

“Here. Just take this one. I have another in the bathroom,” I offer. Damn. Why does he have to be such a good guy, too? I ponder why I want him to be a jerk. And I hate myself a little when I realize that I don’t want to like him any more than I already do because then watching him reconnect with Lacey will hurt that much more.

“You OK?” he asks me as he leans against the doorjamb.

“I’m sorry. I—I’m just tired,” I splutter because that’s true and I can’t come up with anything better to say.

I walk back over to the bed and lie down, pulling the covers up and switching off the lights.

“You want me to shut the door?” he asks, his body silhouetted against the light in his room.

“You don’t have to,” I mumble as I curl up against a pillow, suddenly feeling cold. I shiver and a moment later Tate is standing over me with a hand pressed to my head.

“Are you feeling alright, Sophia?” he asks, his voice laced with concern. I look up at him in the dim light from his room. He looks generally worried.

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